Death By Chocolate
by lahmrh
Summary: K/S established. Kirk's Valentine's Day plans are derailed when Spock gets ill from eating too much chocolate.


Author's Note: Written for the ksvalentine prompt: _Spock doesn't realize that the giant box of assorted chocolates given to him by Kirk was meant to be consumed gradually over a period of time and eats them all in one sitting. He gets spectacularly ill, thereby ruining all Kirk's planned activities for the night. _

To be clear, chocolate is not used as an intoxicant in this fic.

**Death By Chocolate**

On Stardate 7926.3, Spock awakens at precisely 0600, a full half-hour before the alarm in their quarters is scheduled to go off. Kirk is still asleep, and Spock can feel the faint brush of his bondmate's dreaming mind against his. He slips out of bed, careful not to wake Kirk, and heads towards the bathroom.

As he goes through his morning routine, his thoughts turn to the surprise he has planned for tonight. Today is the fourteenth of February, old calendar; Valentine's Day. Their first together. He does not entirely understand the point of this human holiday – the idea of picking one single day out of the year to express the sentiments that one feels all year round escapes him – but Kirk seems excited by the prospect, and there is little Spock wants more than for his bondmate to be happy.

That is, in fact, part of the reason he is getting up early. He has been working on an experiment for the past few days and is hoping to get it finished today, so that he can devote the night to showing Kirk exactly how much he appreciates him.

x x x

An hour or so later, he is in his office, hard at work. He hears the door slide open and glances up, expecting to see one of his team with the results he has been waiting for. Instead he sees Kirk observing him with a fond expression.

"Captain," he greets, inclining his head. "I was not expecting you."

"Spock," Kirk returns, smiling. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Spock shakes his head, then blinks as Kirk holds out a package wrapped in brown paper. "You left before I could give this to you," he explains.

Spock raises an eyebrow, but takes the package and begins to unwrap it. Kirk leans against his desk to watch.

The package turns out to be a box of assorted chocolates. High quality ones, judging from the packaging, although he is hardly an expert in such matters.

"They're sort of traditional," Kirk explains at his questioning look. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Spock's expression softens as he looks at his bondmate. "Indeed." He reaches out and strokes Kirk's hand where it is resting on the desk. "I have prepared a gift for you, but it will have to wait until this evening, when we can be truly alone."

He has thought long and hard about what Kirk might like as a gift, and has settled on fulfilling a particular role-play fantasy that Kirk has mentioned once or twice as especially stimulating. If he is honest, it is not an entirely selfless gift, but it is one he is confident that his bondmate will enjoy.

The grin spreading across Kirk's face lends confidence to his decision. "I'm looking forward to it," Kirk says, then straightens and smoothes down his uniform. "I'd better get to the bridge. I'll see you after shift?"

Spock nods. "I look forward to it." He brushes his fingers across the pair Kirk holds out to him, then returns to work with new motivation.

x x x

The results on the quasar are fascinating, and Spock is quickly absorbed. He is so focused on his work that it is almost 1400 before he realises he hasn't eaten anything yet today. He stares at the computer screen in consternation; all he wants is to keep working, but he really should eat something...

His gaze falls on the chocolates Kirk gave him.

It isn't the healthiest of lunches, but the chocolates are delicious and small enough that he can eat while working. Before he knows it he has finished the whole box.

_Yes_, he thinks, as he puts the box in the recycler, making a note to thank Kirk once again for his gift. _A most logical solution._

* * *

Kirk is almost whistling as he enters his quarters. The day has gone surprisingly well, and now he's finally off duty and ready to spend some quality time with his beloved bondmate. This is their first Valentine's Day together since Spock returned from Gol, and he intends to enjoy every minute of it.

Speaking of which...

"Spock?" he calls, but there is no reply. Kirk frowns. _He should be here. I hope he hasn't gotten caught up in the lab._

He checks the office – no Spock – and then goes to check the bedroom.

It's here that he finds Spock, curled on the bed and looking thoroughly miserable. Alarmed, he hurries over. "Spock? What's wrong?" he asks, kneeling down so they're eye to eye.

Spock raises his head slightly to look at him, then abruptly sits up, expression changing to neutral blankness. "Nothing is wrong. I am merely… slightly fatigued."

"Right," Kirk replies, not buying the act for a second. "That's why you're white as a sheet and look like you're about to throw up on me."

Spock closes his eyes briefly. "I may be experiencing some _slight_ digestive discomfort," he admits.

Which in Spock terms means he's feeling completely and utterly awful. Kirk frowns and sits down next to him. His suspicions are confirmed when Spock immediately leans into him and rests his head on his shoulder; the only time Spock craves physical contact like this when he isn't feeling well. Kirk questioned him about it once and got an entirely logical explanation about a bondmate's presence being beneficial to healing, but personally he thinks it has more to do with the fact that the only time Spock was allowed physical comfort as a child was when he was ill.

He wraps an arm around Spock and pulls him closer, pressing the other hand to his forehead. Warm, but not unusually so.

"I do not have a fever," Spock says, answering the unspoken thought. He leans a little into the touch and Kirk picks up nausea and stomach pain before he takes his hand away. "And before you ask, I do not wish to go to sickbay. The condition will likely pass on its own."

Kirk slides a hand up under Spock's shirt and begins to rub slow circles on his stomach. "Do you know what might have caused it?" he asks. He feels Spock tense up at his words, and stills his hand. "What?"

Spock pulls away slightly. "I believe it may have been the chocolates you gave me," he says, sounding almost apologetic. "The symptoms began soon after I consumed them."

Kirk stares at him in dismay. _Our first Valentine's Day together and I give him food poisoning._ "I don't understand," he says. "My chocolates shouldn't have made you ill. I picked them out specially. Even checked to make sure they'd be safe for Vulcans." He frowns, beginning to pull away from Spock. "Maybe I missed something. Where did you put the box?"

"I disposed of it," Spock replies.

"Why?" Kirk asks.

"Because it was empty."

Kirk stares at him in confusion. "Empty?" A suspicion begins to percolate in his mind. "Spock, are you telling me you ate an _entire box_ of chocolates since this morning?"

Spock nods. "They were very pleasant." He curls in on himself, going, if possible, even paler. "At first."

Kirk shakes his head. "And Bones complains about my diet." He brushes a hand through Spock's hair, suppressing a sigh of exasperation. "You weren't supposed to eat them all at once. No wonder you're feeling so ill."

"Ah," Spock says quietly. "I didn't realise." He frowns and adds, "In my defence, it seemed like a logical idea at the time."

"I'll bet," Kirk mutters darkly. He sighs. "The other half of my gift was supposed to be a romantic dinner, but I guess that's off. Not to mention other activities."

"I'm sorry," Spock says. "I cannot even make it up to you with your gift, as it requires me to be somewhat more active than I believe is wise at present." He swallows hard and leans further into Kirk's touch.

Kirk tries to hold on to his – in his opinion fully justified – annoyance, but he could never stay angry at Spock for long even before they were bonded. Now, when he can feel for himself how guilty and miserable Spock is feeling, it's almost impossible. Despite his best efforts, the annoyance and frustration slip through his grasp and leave only sympathy.

"It's okay," he says, rubbing Spock's shoulder. "You can make it up to me once you're feeling better."

"You are not upset?" Spock asks cautiously.

"Well, you could have left me some," Kirk grumbles. "But I think you've been punished enough at this point." He goes back to rubbing Spock's stomach.

Spock shifts to look at him. "But you've been looking forward to this day for weeks, and my actions – if inadvertent – have ruined it."

Kirk shakes his head. "You haven't ruined it." Before Spock can reply, he continues, "You know what I was doing this time last year? Working, alone, because I didn't have anything worth going home for."

"I'm-" Spock begins, but Kirk cuts him off.

"_Don't_ start apologising," he says firmly. "That wasn't my point. The point I'm trying to make is that this-" he squeezes Spock tightly "-just being here with you, spending Valentine's Day together... it means a lot to me. It might not be exactly what I'd planned, but..." He pauses. "Well, let's just say things could be a lot worse." He shakes his head and adds, "But just so you know, next year I'm getting you flowers."

"Understandable," Spock murmurs with a hint of humour. He strokes Kirk's fingers, transmitting warmth and affection through the touch, and adds softly, "I love you."

Kirk smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of Spock's head. It isn't as if he doesn't know that, but it's rare for Spock to actually come out and say it. "I love you too. Happy Valentine's Day."

And, despite everything, it was.


End file.
